


and make sure the future turns out fine

by proximally



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (shh it makes sense really I promise), First Person Chara, Gen, Nonbinary Frisk, events of the game take place around 211X, nonbinary chara, not angst but kinda depressing anyway, second person frisk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 11:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6515962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proximally/pseuds/proximally
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You act like this is all normal, but...the Surface isn't how it used to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and make sure the future turns out fine

**Author's Note:**

> title from the lyrics of I Hope I Become A Ghost by The Deadly Syndrome.
> 
> note: 40C = 104F

**i.**

It’s just you and Toriel now, sat on the edge of the mountain and watching the sun. You think it’s rising, but you don’t remember which direction is east. You never had to think about it when your only destination was up.

“It is funny,” says your adopted mother, “I do not remember the sun being so red, before.”

She’s right; in old movies and pictures, it’s always yellow and bright, though you yourself don’t remember it looking otherwise. You tell her it’s because of things you think are called party clates. You learned about them in school. They’re tiny bits of carbon, way up in the sky, and that’s why it’s so red sometimes and why some days you all have to wear masks. It’s pretty, though.

Toriel frowns, but she doesn’t say anything.

 

**ii.**

One of the first things you do is go to the beach. Despite your protests. The coast isn’t too far from Mt. Ebott, and your friends have heard stories of the ocean since forever - they had their own lakes, under the mountain, but like the glowing stones were to the stars, they just can’t compare. The ocean is beautiful, vast and powerful; it takes what it wants and its depths hide monsters - not magic monsters, but creatures with too many teeth and too few eyes or eyes too big, things that glow and twinkle in that deep darkness you only get in space and under the sea. Things that could swallow you whole, and not even notice or care.

The first beach you arrive at is closed. So’s the next one, and the one after that. Undyne asks a local human about it and while the coward’s voice shakes and they’re sweating bullets, they tell her there was a big storm a few days ago, and make their escape. As if that explained anything.

Stuff gets washed up after a big storm, you tell her. Nasty stuff, sometimes. It’s safer to just close the beach until the bad weather is all over, and clean up after. There’s a pretty accurate phone app that can tell you which beaches are open, though!

Papyrus drives you an hour and a half to the nearest suggested beach. It’s closed because of dangerous jellyfish. You go home and show your family pictures of the ocean instead.

 

**iii.**

You realise why the humans didn’t put up much of a fight over this particular area one dark November morning when you’re shaken awake by your mother, who’s telling you to grab your dearest possessions and your wellies and _get out_. When you reach the front hall, backpack full of spare clothes and necessities, the water is already seeping under the door and staining the carpet you’d picked out yourself. It looks almost like blood.

There’s a few arguments after that. _Why didn’t you tell us this was a flood plain?_ ask the monsters. _We thought you knew,_ reply the humans. _We thought you’d have looked into it._ What assholes. They _are,_ though. How were you to know you’d get flooded out? The monsters literally just came aboveground for the first time in millennia.

You feel guilty, though. _You_ should’ve thought about it; it’s not the first time your home’s been wrecked by rising water, or even the second. It’s why you do your best not to grow attached to things; you’ll only lose them, in the end.

That’s...a really depressing way to live, you know that? Well, maybe. Whatever the case, you don’t mind the hotel room, but you’re not sure you’re qualified to comfort Alphys over the loss of her entire anime collection.

 

**iv.**

Papyrus has dragged you all to a human restaurant, insisting that you must sample the local human delicacies for him - as skeletons, neither he nor his brother can consume anything but monster food. You think the day he’d tried human spaghetti was the most disappointing day of his life.

It’s only a little restaurant, and it’s seen better days. The seashell-patterned wallpaper is stained and torn in places, and the tank by the till is full of jellyfish. They’re translucent white, about as big as a plate, and the way they drift makes them look almost ethereal. It’s hypnotic, and you’re pleased when your family decide to sit nearby.

You sneak glances at the tank while you’re reading the menu. Everything on it seems really expensive...what? It isn’t? But...well. If you say so. Everything on it seems reasonably priced, though it’s weird that the entire seafood section is made up of jellyfish-based dishes, considering this isn’t really a speciality restaurant. Where’s the prawn? Or the salmon, or the shellfish?

You wonder what a salmon is.

 

**v.**

Summer holidays are here, which is really weird because it’s only May. This is, apparently, normal, and you won’t be going back until mid-August at the earliest, when it’s cooler. You can’t expect kids to learn much when their brains are cooking in their skulls, right? That’s sure what it feels like, anyway - forty degrees in the shade, and midsummer isn’t for another four weeks. Hell has given up waiting for the last of the human race, and has come to cook them here on Earth instead.

Undyne is suffering, and so are all your furred friends and family. _You’re_ suffering, and you’re wearing the lightest clothing you could find and slumped in front of an electric fan. You can’t imagine how your mother feels right now.

Papyrus prances by the window in a straw hat and a Hawaiian shirt, and frankly you don’t have the energy to tell him that watering the plants at this hour isn’t good for them. Maybe Sans will say it for you - compared to the rest of you, he’s practically _active_. It’s...a little unnerving.

Still. He’s the one who volunteered to go on ice cream runs, so you’ll get over it. Just make sure he gets chocolate next time, alright? Whether it’s more expensive or not.

 

**vi.**

You love the aquarium. Or you think you do; you’ve never actually been to one. The smaller establishments tend to be pretty bland and boring, but the big ones are _incredible_ \- huge shark tanks, rockpools, wave machines. There’s one not far from where you live, you discover, and you pester your friends and family until they agree to take you. Not that they require much of that, because they’re as excited as you are.

You’re amazed by what’s on display, even though they’re pretty pitiful. Who the heck is surprised by a lobster? Or an oyster? Nobody, that’s who. Except you, nose pressed up against the glass as if there were something cool in there, like a big ray or an octopus. It’s just a crab, and it’s so boring you decide to move on and look at something more interesting… Oh, fine. You continue to stare blankly at the crustacean in the tank. It does nothing. Because it’s boring. It doesn’t even have appealing colours, and looks and acts basically like a rock.

After what was probably an eternity, you tear yourself away from the utterly fascinating _Crabicus uninterestingi_ and turn your gaze on the rest of the exhibits. It’s less than impressive, but you leave the building full of wonder anyway, and your friends seem to be in high spirits too.

Toriel seems a little off, though she’s trying to hide it. When you ask, she just says, “I’m not sure what I expected.” and changes the subject.

 

**vii.**

It’s pretty late at night when you ask me what things were like back in my day. You’ve been thinking a lot about how disappointed I seem in everything. Which I am, I admit it. It’s partly because it’s exactly like I expected, and partly because it’s not.

Humanity is, was, and will _always_ be terrible. That’s a given. But it’s terrible in a creative way, and as much as I expected them to find new ways to screw up everything, I guess I also kind of assumed there’d be flying cars and moon colonies by now, not...this.

It wasn’t _great,_ back then. But it was different. More fish in the sea. More trees. Less pollution. Less...less _resignation._

This isn’t the world I wanted the monsters to inherit.

**Author's Note:**

> i am very bitter and angry about the environment, the end.


End file.
